Take off your hat!

Good morning... What can I get for you?

Here comes a partner story for you... Up until now, I've shared some memorable partners stories that have been on the "positive" side... Today's is a little different.

As a manager, I had been known to be lenient to a point. I believed in rehabilitation... with a little pain (figurative pain).

At my last store, I inherited a shift supervisor named "Blake"... On the surface, he seemed like a nice enough guy. He wore a lot of vintage clothing... Gangster style vintage clothing. It was the sort of thing a Seattle guy living in the city working at Starbucks might wear. He also wore a hat all of the time. Like the one pictured above. It was sort of endearing.

My first day meeting him, he rolls up to the front of the store on his skateboard... in full Blake attire. We shake hands... exchange pleasantries... he puts his apron on and asks if he can get a till. But then I noticed that his hat wasn't coming off... Now, it's my 2nd shift in this store... but I couldn't let it go.

Pat: Hey Blake buddy... You forgot to take off your hat...

Blake: Oh yeah... sorry.

No harm done... But then it happened again. Same conversation. And then again... and again... and again... Sometimes, on my day off, I'd come into the store to get a drink and there would be the hat.

Pat: Hey Blake buddy... You forgot to take off your hat...

Blake: Oh yeah... sorry.

Now I cycled through three District Managers at this store. One I haven't mentioned yet, Flanders, and another one I haven't mentioned yet. Each one bringing up the issue that one of my shifts was spotted wearing a Fedora while on shift. Each time...

Pat: Hey Blake buddy... You forgot to take off your hat...

Blake: Oh yeah... sorry.

Now, I know that Blake wasn't retarded or special... he wasn't slow... he seemed to have at least completed high-school. I think I may have figured out on day four that this was a power struggle. Blake against "The Man".

I tried different approaches. I took him golfing... Had tough-love conversations... got frustrated... kept the pressure on by showing up unannounced. Then it dawned on me. It didn't matter what I did. He was going to wear the hat... It was time for him to make the choice. No hat or no job.

He chose... no job.

In retrospect, I really didn't give a rat's fuzzy bottom about the hat. In fact, given the choice again, I'd have just let it go. The guy was solid on the bar... he cared about the coffee... he cared about cleanliness and he cared about the customers... even the ones he didn't like. I mean... it's just coffee and people... and it really doesn't matter in the grande scheme. I mean really. After 20 years of changing you'd think Starbucks would have at least mildly changed some of the dress code policies... like tatoos. Who gives a flying Frappuccino anymore?

What happened to Blake? Well, he left for another coffee shop. A little one... with less rules. I ran into him one day while he was working. I asked how it was going... He said... "This place is driving me crazy... no one enforces anything around here... there are no standards. The owner wants to promote me to manager..." and I said "Well, there you go..."

We'll see you tomorrow for your usual...

Pat Nerr...